And batteries make three
by priscilla brett

My mate, he once told me
There was a taboo on his mind
And perhaps, if I wanted
Another girl we would find
I answered that I thought
That though he’d like a her
I’d rather another mister
((one without his fur))
He balked at my idea
And set into a furry
He said I’d never understand
Slammed door, left in a hurry
So later on that very night
I, rather shy, set out
To see if a solution
Would to me somehow shout
I stopped in ladies places
Where bachlorettes begin
But I couldn’t fid the “something”
The would please both me and him
Until I came to Rosie’s
Oh what a thing I found
It was all silver, shiny
Long and hard and ribbed and round
I blushed all through my purchase
Could not look in eye
Since the person ‘cross the counter
Was a cross-dressed biker guy
I scurried home and hid it
Beneath pillowcase it slid
Next to lube from Rosie’s counter
With a penis for a lid
When hours turned to darkness
Again my mate returned
He said that he’d forgive me
If I said that I had learned
Inside I simply shook my head
But outwardly I smiled
Made him think that I’d concede
But inside I was wild
Later, wrapped in bed sheets
We two, with furry raged
Like beasts of pure desire, finally uncaged
And when a moment came to be
That enough time had passed
I grabbed the giant dildo
And shoved it up his ass.

(for jasmine)